rive on a similar occasion; and it is almost certain, that they would find themselves perfectly incapable of communicating to others the steps by which they were led to their conclusions. In consequence of these circumstances, the attainments of the human mind, in its ruder state, perish with the individual, without being recorded, in writing, or perhaps expressed in words; and we are left to infer them indirectly from the structure of language, or from the monuments of ancient customs and institutions.

When a train of thought leads to any interesting conclusion, or excites any pleasant feeling, it becomes peculiarly difficult to arrest our fleeting ideas; because the mind, when once it has felt the pleasure, has little inclination to retrace the steps by which it arrived at it. This is one great cause of the difficulty attending philosophical criticism. When a critic explains to us, why we are pleased with any particular beauty, or offended with any defect, it is evident, that if his theory be just, the circumstances which he points out as the foundation of our pleasure or uneasiness, must have occurred to our minds before we were pleased with the beauty, or offended with the defect. In such cases, it sometimes happens, when a critic has been fortunate in his theory, that we recognise at first sight our old ideas, and, without any farther consideration, are ready to bear testimony to the truth,from our own consciousness. So very difficult, however, is it to attend to the ideas which excite such feelings, that it often appears to be doubtful, whether a theory be right or wrong; and that where there is every reason to believe that the pleasure is produced in all men in the same way, different critics adopt different theories with respect to its cause. It is long practice alone, joined to what is commonly called a metaphysical turn of mind, (by which I think is chiefly to be understood, a capacity of reflecting on the subjects of our consciousness) that can render such efforts of attention easy. Exquisite sensibility, so far from being useful in this species of criticism, both gives a disrelish for the study, and disqualifies for pursuing it.

Before we leave the subject of attention, it is proper to take notice of a question which has been stated with respect to it; whether we have the power of attending to more than one thing at one and the same instant; or, in other words, whether we can attend at one and the same instant, to objects which we can attend to separately? This question has, if I am not mistaken, been already decided by several philosophers in the negative; and I acknowledge, for my own part, that although their opinion has not only been called in question by others, but even treated with some degree of contempt as altogether hypothetical, it appears to me to be the most reasonable and philosophical that we can form on the subject.

There is indeed a great variety of cases, in which the mind apparently exerts different acts of attention at once; but from the instances which have already been mentioned, of the astonishing rapidity of thought, it is obvious, that all this may be explained, without supposing these acts to be co-existent ; and I may even venture to add it may all be explained in the most satisfactory manner, without ascribing to our intellectual

I have added this explanation to obviate the question, What is meant by one

object?

operations a greater degree of rapidity, than that with which we know from the fact that they are sometimes carried on. The effect of practice, in increasing this capacity of apparently attending to different things at once, renders this explanation of the phenomenon in question more probable than any other.

The case of the equilibrist and rope-dancer already mentioned, is particularly favourable to this explanation; as it affords direct evidence of the possibility of the mind's exerting different successive acts in an interval of time so short, as to produce the same sensible effect, as if they had been exerted at one and the same moment. In this case, indeed, the rapidity of thought is so remarkable, that if the different acts of the mind were not all necessarily accompanied with different movements of the eye, there can be no reason for doubting, that the philosophers, whose doctrine I am now controverting, would have asserted, that they are all mathematically co-existent.

Upon a question, however, of this sort, which does not admit of a perfectly direct appeal to the fact, I would by no means be understood to decide with confidence; and therefore I should wish the conclusions I am now to state, to be received as only conditionally established. They are necessary and obvious consequences of the general principle, "that the mind can only attend to one thing at once;" but must stand or fall with the truth of that supposition.

It is commonly understood, I believe, that, in a concert of music, a good ear can attend to the different parts of the music separately, or can attend to them all at once, and feel the full effect of the harmony. If the doctrine, however, which I have endeavoured to establish, be adnitted, it will follow, that, in the latter case, the mind is constantly varying its attention from one part of the music to the other, and that its operations are so rapid, as to give us no perception of an interval of

time.

The same doctrine leads to some curious conclusions with respect to vision. Suppose the eye to be fixed in a particular position, and the picture of an object to be painted on the retina. Does the mind perceive the complete figure of the object at once, or is this perception the result of the various perceptions we have of the different points in the outline? With respect to this question, the principles already stated lead me to conclude, that the mind does at one and the same time perceive every point in the outline of the object, (provided the whole of it be painted on the retina at the same instant,) for perception, like consciousness, is an involuntary operation. As no two points, however, of the outline are in the same direction, every point, by itself, constitutes just as distinct an object of attention to the mind as if it were separated by an interval of empty space from all the rest. If the doctrine therefore formerly stated be just, it is impossible for the mind to attend to more than one of these points at once; and as the perception of the figure of the object implies a knowledge of the relative situation of the different points with respect to each other, we must conclude, that the perception of figure by the eye, is the result of a number of different acts of attention. These acts of attention, however, are performed with such rapidity, that the effect with respect to us, is the same as if the perception were instantaneous.

In farther confirmation of this reasoning, it may be remarked, that if

the perception of visible figure were an immediate consequence of the picture on the retina, we should have, at the first glance, as distinct an idea of a figure of a thousand sides, as of a triangle or a square. truth is, that when the figure is very simple, the process of the mind is so rapid, that the perception seems to be instantaneous; but when the sides are multiplied beyond a certain number, the interval of time necessary for these different acts of attention becomes perceptible.

The

It may perhaps be asked, what I mean by a point in the outline of a figure, and what it is that constitutes this point one object of attention? The answer, I apprehend, is, that this point is the minimum visibile. If the point be less, we cannot perceive it: if it be greater, it is not all seen in one direction.

If these observations be admitted, it will follow, that, without the faculty of memory, we could have had no perception of visible figure.

CHAPTER THIRD,

OF CONCEPTION.

By y Conception, I mean that power of the mind, which enables it to form a notion of an absent object of perception, or of a sensation which it has formerly felt. I do not contend that this is exclusively the proper meaning of the word, but I think that the faculty which I have now defined deserves to be distinguished by an appropriate name.

Conception is often confounded with other powers. When a painter makes a picture of a friend, who is absent or dead, he is commonly said to paint from memory: and the expression is sufficiently correct for common conversation. But in an analysis of the mind, there is ground for a distinction. The power of conception enables him to make the features of his friend an object of thought, so as to copy the resemblance; the power of memory recognises these features as a former ob. ject of perception. Every act of memory includes an idea of the past; conception implies no idea of time whatever.*

According to this view of the matter, the word conception corresponds to what was called by the schoolmen simple apprehension; with this difference only, that they included, under this name, our apprehension of general propositions, whereas I should wish to limit the application of the word conception to our sensations, and the objects of our perceptions. Dr. Reid, in his enquiry, substitutes the word conception instead of the simple apprehension of the schools, and employs it in the same extensive signification. I think it may contribute to make our ideas more distinct, to restrict its meaning:-and for such a restriction, we have the

authority of philosophers in a case perfectly analogous.-In ordinary language we apply the same word perception to the knowledge which we have by our senses of external objects, and to our knowledge of speculative truth and yet an author would be justly censured, who should treat of these twooperations of the mind under the same article of perception. I apprehend there is as wide a difference between the conception of a truth, and the conception of an absent object of sense, as be tween the perception of a tree, and the perception of a mathematical theorem. I have therefore taken the liberty to distinguish also the two former operations of the mind; and under the article of perception shall confine myself to that faculty, whose province it is to enable us to form a notion of our past sensations, or of the objects of sense that we have formerly perceived.

Conception is frequently used as synonymous with Imagination. Dr. Reid says, that "imagination, in its proper sense, signifies a lively conception of objects of sight." "This is a talent" (he remarks) "of importance to poets and orators; and deserves a proper name, on ac"count of its connection with their arts." He adds, that "imagination " is distinguished from conception, as a part from a whole."

I shall not inquire, at present, into the proper English meaning of the words conception and imagination. In a study such as this, so far removed from the common purposes of speech, some latitude may perhaps be allowed in the use of words, provided only that we define accurately those we employ, and adhere to our own definitions.

The business of conception, according to the account I have given of it is to present us with an exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived. But we have, moreover, a power of modifying our conceptions, by combining the parts of different ones together, so as to form new wholes of our own creation. I shall employ the word imagination to express this power: and, I apprehend, that this is the proper sense of the word; if imagination be the power which gives birth to the productions of the poet and the painter. This is not a simple faculty of the mind. It presupposes abstraction, to separate from each other qualities and circumstances which have been perceived in conjunction, and also judgment and taste to direct us in forming the combinations. If they are made wholly at random, they are proofs of insanity.*

The first remarkable fact which strikes us with respect to conception is, that we can conreive the objects of some senses much more easily than those of others. Thus we can conceive an absent visible object, such as a building that is familiar to us, much more easily than a particular sound, a particular taste, or a particular pain, which we have for

* In common discourse, we often use the phrase of thinking upon an object, to express what I here call, the conception of it.-In the following passage, Shakspeare uses the former of these phrases, and the words imagination and apprehension as synonymous with each other.

-Who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast?

Or wallow naked in December's snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Oh no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.

K. RICHARD II. Act. i. Scene 6.

merly felt. It is probable, however, that this power might be improved in the case of some of our senses. Few people, I believe, are able to form a very distinct conception of sounds, and yet it is certain, that, by practice, a person may acquire a power of amusing himself with reading written music. And in the case of poetical numbers, it is universally known, that a reader may enjoy the harmony of the verse, without articulating the words, even in a whisper. In such cases, I take for gran, ted, that our pleasure arises from a very strong conception of the sounds which we have been accustomed to associate with particular written characters.

The peculiarity, in the case of visible objects, seems to arise from this; that when we think of a sound or of a taste, the object of our conception is one single detached sensation; whereas every visible object is complex, and the conception which we form of it as a whole, is aided by the association of ideas. To perceive the force of this observation, it is necessary to recollect what was formerly said on the subject of attention. As we cannot at one instant attend to every point of the picture of an object on the retina, so, I apprehend, we cannot at one instant form a conception of the whole of any visible object, but that our conception of the object as a whole, is the result of many conceptions. The association of ideas connects the different parts together, and presents them to the mind in their proper arrangement, and the various relations which these parts bear to one another in point of situation, contribute greatly to strengthen the associations. It is some confirmation of this theory, that it is more easy to remember a succession of sounds, than any particular sound which we have heard detached and unconnected.

The power of conceiving visible objects, like all other powers that depend on the association of ideas, niay be wonderfully improved by habit. A person accustomed to drawing, retains a much more perfect notion of a building or of a landscape which he has seen, than one who has never practised that art. A portrait painter traces the form of the human body from memory, with as little exertion of attention, as he employs in writing the letters which compose his name.

One

In the power of conceiving colours, too, there are striking differences among individuals: and, indeed, I am inclined to suspect, that, in the greater number of instances, the supposed defects of sight in this respect ought to be ascribed rather to a defect in the power of conception. thing is certain, that we often see men who are perfectly sensible of the difference between two colours when they are presented to them, who cannot give names to these colours, with confidence, when they see them apart, and are perhaps apt to confound the one with the other. Such men, it should seem, feel the sensation of colour like other men, when the object is present, but are incapable (probably in consequence of some early habit of inattention) to conceive the sensation distinctly when the object is removed. Without this power of conception, it is evidently impossible for them, however lively their sensations may be, to give a name to any colour; for the application of the name supposes not only a capacity of receiving the sensation, but a power of comparing it with one formerly felt. At the same time, I would not be understood by these observations to deny, that there are cases, in which there is a natural defect of the organ in the perception of colour. In some cases, perhaps, the sensation is not felt at all, and in others, the faintness of the sensation may be one cause of those habits of inattention, fion which the incapacity of conception has arisen.